


Forest Of Whimsy

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Elementals, Extreme trust, M/M, Magic, Mixing of Magics, Mystery, References to Fae Lore, Sprites, light fluff, magical bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: Demyx has watched this man visit his lake for almost a month now. Every strange night follows the same pattern, and yet there's something entrancing about his stillness.





	Forest Of Whimsy

The moonlight floated down to the still lake below, partially obscured by the leaves on its surface. Strong winds had plagued the area recently, tearing the green leaves from branches before their time. It gave the forest a wild air, filled with the promise that anything could change in only a moment. Yet the night was calm, as though frozen in time by a spell, where even the leaves gracing the water's surface produced no ripples.

A man knelt by the lake, dressed from head to toe in black robes. He was motionless too, much like the world around him, and yet there was the distinct aura of life clinging to him, alert within the calm exterior.

Demyx gazed up at him past the screen of leaves, hidden by the folds of the water catering to his whims. Regardless of their general obliviousness, it was dangerous for elementals to interact with humans. Still, the warnings of the aquatic life weren't enough to limit his curiosity, so he barely paid them heed.

For almost a month now, this man had come to this spot every night. He never spoke a word, and he failed to disturb anything, leaving the world as though he had never been there when the sun rose. Sometimes Demyx would catch a glimpse of an eye, silver from the reflected moonlight, whilst the other remained obstructed by a thick layer of hair. _Always searching_. The wave of hushed chirps from the crickets heralded his arrival at the same time each night, and he would leave an hour before dawn. Despite nothing having happened, there was always a change in the atmosphere when he left. It was as though the natural world whispered goodnight to his receding form, longing, and yet joyful at the promise of tomorrow.

Demyx was enraptured. He was uncertain as to whether or not he was solely human, but wanted to meet him anyway.

Three more days passed, and the moon's shape was identical to what it had been during the man's first visit. Demyx took his place on his pile of smoothed stones, eagerly shifting his attention from his crossed legs to the man's chosen spot. After confirming the familiar signs of his routine, he no longer expected any changes. It was for this reason that he jolted when the man suddenly spoke, the water rippling for the first time.

“I know you are there, Sprite. Won't you reveal yourself?”

Cautiously, with the faint echoes of his friends' concerns fading from his mind, Demyx slowly rose from the depths. The lake guided him to the surface, his state a humanoid pillar of water before it morphed and solidified to reveal his skin. As he had burst through the film of changing leaves, they clung to him like garments. They felt strange, but didn't bother him, his curiosity overwhelming.

“Why do you call upon me?” he asked in return, voice unwavering despite his nerves. It was his first time being summoned.

The man rested his chin on his palm, lips drawn into an easy smirk. Somehow, it wasn't malicious, merely curious.

“I am a sage from the far side of this forest, two moons away. I had heard rumours of a beautiful nymph with the voice of a siren residing in these parts, and had to investigate the validity of them for myself. Might you know anything about that?” A note of secrecy worked its way into his tone, suggesting he knew more than he was letting on, but his words rang true.

“Can't say that I do. Haven't seen any nymphs for decades.”

What could have been a sigh came from the man, or perhaps a chuckle, and his lips twitched slightly with amusement.

“That's a pity. At any rate, my name is Zexion.” He politely gestured with his hand, the visible half of his face the picture of refinement. “May I have yours?”

“Oh, uh, I'm Demyx! Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Demyx,” Zexion began. Demyx shivered, suddenly awash with panic as he felt a tug at his heart along with the name. He'd just given his true name to a total stranger, without even thinking about it.

 _Damn it, Demyx! Why won't you_ think _, for once!?_

“I promise that I won't make you do anything that you don't want.” Zexion's smirk was gone now, sincerity flooding his almost timid smile. “I honestly didn't expect you to give me your name so easily.” He lifted a hand to his hood, letting it drop and his hair tumble out.

 _At least this stranger is handsome_ , Demyx thought.

As though reading his mind, Zexion continued. “You may not be a nymph, but you _are_ attractive.”

Patches of blue spread briefly beneath the sprite's eyes, his cheeks steaming slightly with the warmth.

“Will you sing to me? It would be a shame to have made it this far only for my journey to be fruitless.”

“I'd hardly call getting a new servant of sorts fruitless,” Demyx pointed out with both his words and his finger. “But I can fulfil that request.”

He sat down on the surface of the water, crossing his legs as he had on his stones. One hand slipped through the thin barrier, before pulling a strange instrument from its depths. Like himself, it was water before it took a solid form. As he set it across his body, Zexion noted that it appeared to be an extension of him, with how seamlessly everything fit together.

 _Perhaps it_ is _an extension_ _of him_ , he mused, eyes taking in the number of strings and the position of his fingers.

The first strummed notes floated into the warm night air, a voice with the lull of waves and strength of a waterfall mingling with them. In all his years of exploring and practicing magic, it was nothing like Zexion had ever experienced before.

_Who is truly under who's spell, I wonder._

Zexion listened with an analytical stare until the entrancing song reached its finale. Its final notes lingered, hovering in the air with faint vibrations, and the sprite bowed his head with reverence for his music. Something about the gesture warned him to maintain the silence.

After several long minutes, Demyx raised his head, his distant eyes making him appear lost.

“So,” Demyx offered quietly, finally finding his gaze. His face was a carefully blank mask, but his aura belied his nervousness. “Did you like it?”

“I did. Truly, I have never witnessed such a mesmerising expression of energy.”

His follower nodded, relaxing. The water around him stirred, roused from its sleep with the movement. Zexion had been observing him ceaselessly, yet it seemed as though the sprite was sitting during one blink of the eye, and standing before him in the next.

A sigil formed in the air between them, ice-blue and fog-like, and Zexion felt as though he was staring into a dark pool on a moonless night. While his eyes never left Demyx's, the sigil grew clearer in his vision, the harsh glow making his head spin. Whether it was a treble clef or the symbol _IX_ , he couldn't tell.

“I thank you for your gracious acceptance of my true self,” the sprite intoned. Power flooded his words, screaming at the senses, and there was a distinct otherness to his voice. “With gratitude, I accept you baring your soul to me. You are an honest being, even though you hide through silence, and so I cannot regret our pact. What is mine to give is yours, and my power is your own.”

Demyx stretched his hand through the insignia, his eyes absorbing its hue. His hand lay open, asking Zexion to accept. The mage reached for it, his visible eye blending the blue magic with his own purple aura as he touched the mark. Just as he was about to hold Demyx's hand, the sprite moved forward, their fingers closing over each other's wrist.

Their lips moved in unison, both voices speaking an incantation born of their bond. Each had his magic entwine with the other's, the result drenching both of them with an indigo haze. Zexion began trembling with the force of it, body desperately fighting exhaustion as he used up his own mana supply, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet. The forest slowly shifted into focus as the light dimmed to its usual transparency.

“May you command me well,” Demyx murmured as the last of the glow faded from his eyes. He staggered, hands landing on Zexion's shoulders as the other caught him. For a moment, two fatigued gazes met, an innate gratitude and understanding passing between them.

Demyx laughed tiredly, bumping their noses together as his forehead dropped against the other's. In the next moment, he vanished into flickering aquamarine lights that fell through Zexion. Power spiked through him, reinvigorating his mind, and he called out with a rush of panic. “Demyx?!”

“I'm okay,” the sprite answered in his mind, tired voice taking on the weightless quality of their first interaction. “I won't be able to materialise for a week or so, but after that, you can call me out whenever so long as there's a body of water. Even a teacup will do!”

“That was...” Zexion began, closing his eyes against the intoxicating thrum of their power coursing through him. “So intense.”

“More than you were anticipating, I take it?”

The mage nodded.

“Well, it was a first for both of us. You should get to bed while you can, though. My magic may be helping you now, but you'll probably sleep for a few days.”

“Days?” Zexion wondered, taking the first steps towards his new life.

“Yeah. Don't worry, though! My power will help you stay alive for the initial stages, then you just eat to replenish yours like you always do.”

When Zexion finally reached his camp, he collapsed onto his bedroll with a soft groan. He ate a mouthful of hazelnuts and mint leaves to aid his recovery, drank from a flask that smelled of the forest, and tucked himself in. He gazed at the stars until his eyelids drooped, fog filling his tired brain. The last thing he heard as sleep dragged at him was a quiet “goodnight,” just as musical and magical as the rest of his night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my backlog since late January, whoops. Naming is hard sometimes, and I couldn't exactly upload this with the title 'Magical Forests or something idk', now could I? (I've since learned to make use of working titles).  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it all the same!


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